Trigger warning: not explicit but symptoms of depression and ptsd. not sure what the exact triggers are but this one is very emotionally heavy so read at your own discretion.
One, two, three, four...
Mona couldn't remember calling this Uber, getting into the car, or even getting ready at all. Everything that happened after her phone call with Liam to this moment, where she was sitting numbly in the backseat of this car at three in the morning, was a complete blur.
Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen...
She was coping by counting the passing streetlights, hoping that this menial task could help her feel like she was grounded to earth, like she was still sane and normal and not overwhelmed with anxiety. Her hands were clammy, and she twisted her fingers together, pinching her skin occasionally as if to remind herself that this was not a dream, but some sort of twisted reality that had her feeling like she was constantly tripping into an endless chasm of nothing.
Just falling. She was falling. And it was dark and cold with no beginning or ending in sight. It was just a constant fall; waiting to hit the bottom, if there was a bottom at all, was agonizing.
She shook herself out of those thoughts, blinking several times to get rid of her tunnel vision and tried to breathe to get rid of the rushing sound of blood in her ears. She felt like she could hear the thump thump thump of her heartbeat, loud and clear, and she wished the sound would stop.
When she arrived at the hospital, she walked towards it in a sort of trance. She almost couldn't understand why she was even there.
How did the night come to this?
She was having flashbacks to moments she couldn't even remember completely before. Someone calling her mom to tell her that her dad had been in an accident. Her mom telling her about it. Them driving to the hospital. Finding out what happened.
Mona tripped on a stair now and she almost went tumbling, catching herself at the last moment. She straightened up and took a deep breath, willing herself to keep it together. She wasn't even inside yet and she already felt like she was going to throw up.
The first person she saw when she walked in was Harry. It looked like he was pacing up and down the entryway, waiting for her, because as soon as she entered, he went straight for her. "Hey, Mo," he breathed out when he was close enough to throw an arm over her shoulders.
"Harry," she croaked. Her throat felt tight. She was so confused that she didn't even know what exactly to ask. "What...how?"
He sighed, leading her towards an elevator and scrubbing a hand over his face. "To be quite honest, I'm not entirely sure. Someone called Liam when it happened because he's in Niall's emergency contacts. We haven't been able to get the full story from anyone."
Mona's chest gave a sharp twist. The further she walked into the building, the more sick she felt. A constant string of questions screamed in her mind: What is happening? How did this happen? Why?
It was so loud in her head. She almost wanted to stop and press her hands to her forehead to make it stop, wished that she could just curl up on the floor and press her head against it so it could all just stop.
"Mo, hey." Liam's voice was snapping her out of her mind, and when she could see straight in front of her again, she found that he was heading right towards her, pulling her into his arms. Liam's hugs were always so comforting, all warm and strong, and when she returned his embrace she found herself feeling much more sane and calm.
"Liam?" It was so hard to breathe. She felt like she could combust at any moment. Unlike a few minutes ago with Harry, this time, she found her words. "What's happening?"
Liam held her for a few more moments before leading her to the waiting area where the Zayn and Harlow had set up camp. Zayn passed her a cup of something warm when Liam sat her down on a long chaise-looking seat, pressing his lips to her hairline before sitting next to her, nudging her lightly. She couldn't feel anything. Her body was so numb. And when she looked over at Zayn, she knew from the look he gave her that he understood exactly how she was feeling.
Liam sat across from her, Harlow by his side. Harry had nuzzled up on Mona's other side. "Well I just spoke to one of the nurses. Apparently Niall was walking near the park and ran into the street to save a kid who wasn't paying attention. Niall got hit instead." Mona drew in a breath that sounded a bit like a struggling gasp. Her hands were starting to shake. Beside her, Harry and Zayn pressed against her closer, as if holding her together with their bodies. "The parents of the boy were the ones that brought Niall here. But he'll be fine, just bunged up his knee a bit. They're just gonna fix him up and he'll be okay."
Liam sounded like he was trying to convince himself of that fact, which really didn't help. But Harry placed a hand over one of hers, which was still holding on to the cup Zayn handed to her. "See? Everything is fine. It sounds like it's just minor surgery." Something about the way he smiled at her had her feeling much more at ease. He guided the cup closer to her mouth. "Drink."
She brought the cup to her lips and sipped, the hot liquid falling easily down her throat, warming her from the inside out. It was hot chocolate. Suddenly, her body felt as if it were being yanked back into a memory and she felt like she was falling again. Only this time, snow crunched under her shoes and she was surrounded by trees and she could see their winter cabin in the distance, at the bottom of the hill that Niall made her climb because "it's a full moon and the stars are out and you don't get this kind of view in the city."
A memory, where Mona had grinned into his coat, hot chocolate in the thermos he had brought with him all warm in her hands, and she asked him whether the view reminded him of home. A memory, where Niall's eyes glittered just like the stars twinkling in the sky, and he had smiled the most beautiful smile when he looked at her and explained that while it reminded him of Ireland, that wasn't home anymore. A memory, where he whispered that home was right there with her.
A memory.
She gasped slowly, blinking a few times until she was back in the waiting room in a hospital, pressed against Harry and Zayn, holding a cup of hot chocolate, trying to keep it together. She took another sip of the beverage and hoped she wasn't drawing attention to herself, hoped no one would point out how hard she was trying not to freak out because that would probably cause her to freak out.
A nurse was approaching them and Mona's fingers started to shake so much that she had to put the cup down. She asked if any one of them was Niall's relative and Liam responded that Niall didn't have any relatives here. He ended up being the one to go speak to the doctor because he had all of Niall's insurance information anyway.
When Liam went away, Mona realized that Harlow, sitting across from her, had not even acknowledged her existence. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. After all, this had been the case for the past few weeks. Still, under the circumstances, there was a small bit of hope in her chest that they could at least reconcile their differences. Clearly, she should just stop hoping for things.
She closed her eyes to blink and all of a sudden she was somewhere else. A memory, in a different hospital on the opposite end of the country, sitting on a waiting room chair not unlike the one she was sitting in now. A memory, where it was Harlow by her side as Mona pressed her forehead to her shoulder. A memory, where she was too stunned to cry and too overwhelmed to speak but Harlow held her hand and told her it was going to be okay and somehow, that was enough for her.
A memory.
Zayn shifted a bit and Mona snapped out of it again, realizing that she had leaned her head against his shoulder. Harry was fiddling with her fingers, and she only then realized that she was holding his hand. Years have stretched between that memory and now and things were so different. She didn't have a dad. Her best friend was ignoring her. She'd fallen in love and couldn't admit it.
Well, the last part was nothing new.
"Y'alright, Mo?" Zayn asked, his voice a murmur in her hair.
Mona thought about his question. Was she? Was she alright? The obvious answer was no, she was clearly not alright. She felt completely and utterly inadequate. All her life, she has never been able to meet expectations, never been able to be someone who was always happy and kind and generous. Never been able to be enough. She was a disappointment.
She wasn't enough for her dad, wasn't enough for her mom, wasn't enough for Nick, wasn't enough for Harlow, and wasn't enough for her friends. Now, as the hospital walls appeared to be closing in on her, she knew that she wasn't enough for Niall.
It was just so exhausting. Because no matter what Mona tried to do, she always felt like she would just never be enough.
"I wish it was me." The words escaped her lips so fluidly and yet in a voice that she couldn't even recognize. Who said that? She knew it was her. It was her voice out of her mouth up through her throat. But it didn't sound like something she would say, didn't sound like something she should say.
And yet, it conveyed her deepest darkest feeling. Something that had been so tired of being burrowed deep in her chest. Something that she didn't allow herself to feel until now.
It was why they were here.
"Mo," Zayn gasped. "That is such a terrible thing to say."
She gulped through the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, shrugging. "I'm so tired of people getting hurt because of me." Her voice sounded empty, hollow. It sent a chill through the room. "I would have deserved it. Not Niall. Never Niall."
"Mona..." Harry sounded like he was stunned into disbelief. She could feel everyone's eyes on her now, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. Still, she didn't dare make eye contact with anyone; instead, she stared down at the floor, her head still on Zayn's shoulder. "Mona, you don't mean that."
When she looked up at Harry, she could see the exact moment he saw all of her feelings in her eyes. All of his features softened, lips curling down into a frown. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he looked a bit like he wanted to cry.
Mona sighed, sitting up and rubbing her hands against the material of her jeans. She hadn't realized when they'd gotten so clammy. She was starting to feel lightheaded and overheated, and all she wanted was to splash some cold water over her face. "I'm gonna go find the bathroom," she mumbled, getting to her feet and heading off before anyone else could say anything.
Once she was out of their view, she slowed her pace, wandering down the corridor in search of the restroom. Somewhere, a machine was beeping uncontrollably, the sound echoing in her brain along with her never-ending thoughts. She took three more steps and suddenly she was in a different corridor, in the same hospital where she was sitting with her head on Harlow's shoulder.
She was transported to a memory, where her mom was walking towards her, eyes wet with tears yet her expression was stunned. A memory, where her mom reached out to her, hands pressing to her arms, trembling. A memory, where she looked over to the room next to her, and her father was there, yet he wasn't; he was gone, leaving her all alone. A memory, where she fell to her knees and screamed and wailed and called for him to come back, and her mom gathered her to her chest and said, "let's go home, sweetheart."
A memory.
She was on her knees now too, but her mom wasn't in front of her. She had backed herself into a corner, her mission to find the restroom long forgotten. Her head was so damn loud, strings of thoughts and memories spinning around and around and it was making her dizzy. She just wanted it to stop. She just wanted it to be quiet.
"Shut up," she muttered to the buzzing in her mind, pressing her hands to her head. "Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up—"
"Shhhh." She opened her eyes and there was Harry, green eyes all wide and concerned as he reached for her hands and pulled her up to her feet. "What do you need? What's happening?"
Mona struggled through an inhale, reaching out for him desperately. She felt so dizzy, like she needed to hold on to him otherwise she would just collapse. "I can't stay here," she breathed out. "I can't stay here, I can't stay here, I need to go."
Harry didn't say another word. He simply nodded and told her to wait there as he left to go retrieve her jacket. When he was gone, she leaned up against a wall and closed her eyes, trying to breathe, trying to calm her mind.
She just wanted it to be quiet.
~
The curtains were drawn, but from the sliver of light the shined through the crack in the middle, it was clear that morning had come and gone.
Mona groaned as she shifted in her bed. Her entire body ached, muscles feeling tight and tense like she had just run a marathon. She somehow managed to summon the willpower to lift herself up on her elbow, reaching over to tap her phone, which was sitting on her nightstand, to look at the time.
1:32 pm.
She huffed, falling back into her pillow and allowing her eyes to fall shut again. She felt like she could sleep for an eternity and it still wouldn't be enough.
When she and Harry got home from the hospital, it was somewhere around five in the morning. She had been exhausted, both physically and mentally, and Harry had barely helped her to her room before she was collapsing onto the mattress. Somehow, she'd managed to kick her shoes and jacket off somewhere in between entering her apartment and falling into bed because she was still in her jeans and hoodie from the night before.
As she focused on the warmth of her blankets, she was reminded of Niall. Sweet, wonderful Niall who would throw an arm around her and press his lips to the curve of her neck whenever they ended up in the same bed together. Niall, who could rival the sun with his smile and who had the most beautiful blue eyes that couldn't even compare to the color of the sky and who she loved so much.
Niall, who she was a bit pissed off at.
So much happened yesterday that she couldn't even begin to process it. It had seemed like it was shaping up to be a harmless day from the morning she had had. She woke up in a good mood and she cleaned her room and did some self-care. How was she to know that as soon as she walked into Connemara's it would all turn to shit?
She didn't really feel like reflecting on her godawful life, but she knew that she couldn't afford to bottle up any more of her emotions. She shifted in her bed again, pressing her face into her pillow and bringing her blanket up under her chin, thinking over what seemed to kickstart the avalanche of events from yesterday.
The image of Niall and Cleo together in the back corridor of Connemara's came to mind. At the time, Mona had just looked away. Now, she realized that it really wasn't that bad. After all, at least she didn't have to watch him kiss her again. Still, it stung. Especially considering what he said to her after:
"Mona, I know— I know it's been weird but—I want you. This whole time all I've wanted was you..."
She groaned at the memory of it now. She couldn't understand him. How could he say that when not only a few moments before he was cuddling in a corner with Cleo?
She pulled the blanket over her head now, wishing she could just stay burrowed in her bed forever. Her chest was starting to ache now, that empty pang resonating into her bones and had her whole spirit feeling heavy.
She missed him.
That was something she just couldn't deny. She missed holding his hand and feeling his smile against her skin and kissing his soft, peachy lips. She missed Vegas and lounging around with him in their hotel room and holding on to him just because she could. She missed him.
With a huff, she decided to drag herself out of bed. Nothing productive ever came out of moping around and staying in bed all day. After brushing her teeth and taking a quick shower, she strolled into the living room only to find Zayn lounging on the couch watching TV while sipping from a mug of what appeared to be coffee.
He turned around at the sound of her footsteps and grinned tiredly at her. "Mornin'." He raised his mug. "There's coffee in the kitchen."
After preparing herself a cup of coffee, she settled on the couch next to him. He was watching the Weather Channel, which gave her the feeling that he wasn't really watching TV, just sitting there mulling over his thoughts. "You okay?" she asked, giving him a little nudge.
Zayn turned to her, quirking an eyebrow. "I feel like I should be asking you that question."
Mona couldn't help the way she huffed out a laugh at that. This was all, truthfully, a bit ridiculous. "Well I'm not the one here brooding over a cup of coffee and killing time watching the," she gestured towards the television, "weather report, or whatever."
He rolled his eyes at her, grinning. But then, he rested his head against the back of the couch, staring off into space again. "Dunno," he murmured, bringing his mug to his lips and taking a long dreg of his coffee. "I feel...sad? Angry? Confused?" He sighed, closing his eyes for a few moments. "A lot."
Mona snorted, sipping from her coffee and shaking her head. "Relatable."
He looked towards her again and gave her a sad smile. "He woke up by the way." She felt a chill go down her spine at his words, her heart skipping a few beats and she had to gasp in a breath to make up for it. "They finished the surgery to fix his knee and he was out of it for a while but when he woke up, the first person he asked for was you."
She really wished he didn't tell her that. Because for a few moments, she felt fine. And now, she could feel the emotions surging up in her throat again, her lips wobbling from the intensity of it. She looked away from him, gulping down the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat and took a deep breath. Silence stretched between them for what seemed like a long time. He allowed her to process his words and collect her thoughts, which she appreciated, because as always, he knew her too well. He was honestly probably the only person who could read her like an open book.
"I'm so...mad at him," she blurted out, her voice wavering. Beside her, Zayn's demeanor immediately changed. He slid his mug onto the coffee table in front of them and turned his whole body to face her, giving her all of his attention. "Like, I know I messed up and he's mad at me and whatever. But god he didn't have to go running back to Cleo the first chance he got!"
She sounded so dramatic but she didn't even care. And she knew Zayn didn't either. "What?" he asked, voice quiet.
She chanced a look at him only to see his brows furrowed. "I caught them in the back corridor at Connemara's last night. They didn't..." She couldn't even say it. If she did then the memory of that awful night would come rushing back and she really couldn't deal with that. "It wasn't like last time. They were just talking. But they were very close. And—" She huffed, placing her mug on the coffee table so she could angrily tug her fingers through her tangled hair. "Ugh. I don't know. I freaked out and ran out and he ran after me but then he started saying all this shit about how it wasn't what it looked like and I know I'm probably overreacting but—I'm still mad! Like irrationally angry over this. Because every time he says something that makes me believe that maybe I shouldn't be so afraid of telling him how I feel, he goes and does some stupid shit like that, and then I just can't believe a word that comes out of his mouth."
She drew in a deep breath and then exhaled angrily, feeling slightly calmer after that. It felt good, to get all of that off her chest. It felt...freeing. Like something very heavy was being lifted off her shoulders.
When she looked at Zayn again, he looked exasperated, shaking his head slowly as he took in her words. "You two...are so fucking stupid."
At that, she rolled her eyes, tossing a pillow at him but grinning nonetheless. "I hate you," she muttered, but she didn't push him away when he tugged her towards him, wrapping her up in a hug. She closed her eyes as she rested her head on his chest.
He sighed before speaking, and she knew he was trying to choose his words carefully. "I dunno what to tell you, babe." She understood that. What advice could he possibly give anyway. And besides, she wasn't looking for advice, she just needed to vent to someone for once, and she knew that he understood that. "All I can say is that the two of you need to sit down and have a very honest conversation and work this out. Because it's really long overdue."
Leave it to Zayn to be blunt. Deep down, she appreciated it though. Because no one else could call her out on her nonsense like he could. "Are you throwing my own advice back at me?" she asked quietly, remembering a time where she and him sat out on the fire escape having a similar conversation when he and Harlow were having relationship trouble.
At that, he snorted. "You needed to hear it again."
They sat and watched TV for a while, changing the channel of course. The silence was comfortable between them. They both gave each other a lot to think about, and the silence allowed them a chance to mull over things for a while.
Eventually, Zayn asked if she wanted to go back with him to the hospital again and she agreed, knowing that she probably should, but also because she missed Niall and worried over him too much not to go. After checking in if she was feeling better to go back after her freak out the night before, she assured him that she would be fine and that she had just been feeling all too much at once. He seemed satisfied with that answer, because he left her alone to go back up to his apartment to freshen up and rest for a while.
Mona took their empty mugs to the sink and washed up. She tidied up the kitchen before heading to her room, noticing that the ache in her bones had subsided substantially. When she got to her room, however, her phone, which had been plugged into the charger, was buzzing on her nightstand, and a glance to the screen told her that it was her brother.
"Nick," she breathed out when she answered, "hey."
"Hey, Mobear." He sounded tired, and she wondered what he had been up to. "How's it going?"
She sighed, falling back onto her pillows and staring up at the ceiling. There was a point in time where she would tell her brother anything. She missed those days, feeling like they were best friends and they could tell each other the world of secrets. Time had caused the distance between them to grow, and it made her feel sad. "Not good," she said quietly, feeling too down about herself to lie to him.
He hummed, silent for a few moments before he spoke again. "Yeah I heard about what happened to your boyfriend. Niall, right?"
Mona gulped. She wasn't expecting the conversation to turn in this direction. "How did you—"
"Well, Harlow called to tell her sisters what happened and then Pari called me." He huffed and it sounded a bit like a laugh. "Word spreads fast with the Kotecha girls and all."
Mona snorted, shaking her head because he was not wrong at all. She didn't even bother correcting him on the b-word, knowing that Pari must have given him the rundown on her and Niall anyway. "Yeah," she breathed out, not really knowing what else to say.
Nick seemed to sense her mood because he said, "Hey, I'm sorry about that by the way. I know—it must be tough." There was a rustling on his end and she wondered if he was in his bed too. She never would have imagined them having this phone call, both of them tucked into their beds on different sides of the country. She never imagined ever speaking to him again. But here they were. "He seems like a really great guy."
Her attention perked at that. The last and only time she could remember an interaction between Niall and Nick was at Deepa's wedding, and Niall had been in his defensive mode because he thought Nick had been bothering her. She couldn't remember them having any sort of other conversation.
Her silence must have told him that she was confused, because he took the opportunity to explain. "That day, uh, at Deepa's wedding. After you left with Harlow, he and I spoke for a bit." Mona found herself holding in a breath, waiting for his next words. "Um. He basically introduced himself and we talked about you—how you weren't really ready to talk to me and that everything that happened really took a toll on you so I shouldn't be pushy or anything. That you'd talk to me eventually."
There was a moment where he cleared his throat and Mona realized that she was pressing her hands to her mouth, willing herself to keep the tears at bay. But they were already stinging against the corners of her eyes and she was trying to breathe through them.
"He said that it took a long time before he saw you genuinely happy, that he always just wants you to be happy. Basically nicely telling me to back off." Nick paused when Mona accidentally gasped in a breath in her attempts to prevent the onslaught of sobs she knew were coming. She knew there was no way she'd be able to stop it, but perhaps she would be able to stall. Clearly it wasn't working. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she tried, but her voice already sounded high pitched and raspy like it always did when she was about to start crying. She shook her head at herself, closing her eyes as the first few tears slipped down her cheeks. "No," she sobbed through a shuddering inhale. "No, I'm not."
"Aww, Mobear." Nick's voice softened until it sounded soothing and comforting. She knew that tone. He always used it whenever he needed to get her to calm down. He was always the calm one out of the two of them, and she was always the one that felt too much. "It's alright. Just let it out."
The fact that he was just going to let her cry to him over the phone made her so emotional that she started to cry even harder. "I-I—" she gasped, "Everything's really fucked up, Nick."
And she told him everything. And he just listened and listened until she stopped crying and was simply sniffling into her phone. And he said, "Mobear, I know you don't need me to tell you what to do. You know exactly how to fix this." She imagined him scrubbing his hands over his face before staring forward matter-of-factly, like he always looked at her when she made a big deal out of nothing. "You just need to stop overthinking every goddamn thing you do."
Mona paused, taking in his words. No one could call her out like Nick could. Not even Zayn. She blinked up at the ceiling a few times, the silence stretching for what seemed to be an eternity as she mulled over what he just said to her. "I hate when you're always right."
Nick didn't say anything for a few moments, as if deciding whether she was actually joking with him or not. But then they both started to laugh and she wiped the tears from her eyes as she mulled over why she never thought to call him for advice before.
And for a few moments, she felt closer to her brother than ever before.